


Langdon's Got a Witch

by ToWhomItMayConcern



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse
Genre: Blood, Breeding Kink, Death, F/M, Language, Original Character Death(s), Smut, Violence, face riding, handjobs, light chocking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:08:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22019884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToWhomItMayConcern/pseuds/ToWhomItMayConcern
Summary: Michael has a witch under his wing. And she's not going anywhere.
Relationships: Michael Langdon x Reader, Michael Langdon/Reader, Michael Langdon/You
Comments: 4
Kudos: 116





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I thought about making this two parts or more but if this gets enough hits and requests then I definitely shall!

Y/N Y/L/N’s mother had always told her to stay away from that woman. The woman in black, the one with evil written all over. She never really had a problem with Miriam Mead, but boy did her parents. Mommy and Daddy dearest, devoted lovers of God, casting away the devil with their prayers and high ground morals. Now Y/N never had a problem with that either; to each their own she’d say. Besides, who was she to really judge other beliefs? If they weren’t bothering her that is. 

Now Y/N was a confident person all around, knew she’d be destined for something great. Not in the supernatural sense, but in one where she played an important part in her career of choice, men and women parting ways as she walked through; wearing proudly, as one could conceive as, a devil’s smirk. She had straight A’s and B’s in school (a senior now, relieved to be done and over with), kept out of trouble to the best of her ability (of course she smoked, drank, always went to the biggest party thrown). Y/N Y/L/N made her parents proud all around with the outside persona she showed them. But she also wasn’t convinced that anyone would remember her (well her family maybe, a few friends here and there who probably wouldn’t make an effort to attend her funeral), but she would own the shit out of her life that was for sure. Completely ordinary was she, or at least she thought until that boy moved in.

Michael fucking Langdon. Y/N remembered watching him from the window of her bedroom, which conveniently faced the street of their neighborhood. The first thing she noticed from afar was the curiosity in his eyes as he inspected the outside of his seemingly new home. Next was his beautiful blonde curls, which she imagined she could run her hands through. Miriam, or Miss Mead as she’d always say, was all over the boy. He seemed to enjoy it though, seemed to thrive off it. Y/N had to know where this boy (or man?) came from. And why the hell he was stuck with Miriam Mead, the outcast Satanist. She waited, not sure on why she did really; a part of her was always scared of him. She would sneak peaks of him through her window when she could, catch him on his porch after school. And each and every time it seemed as though he knew she was watching, would always look her way as if he sensed her; she got the strong feeling that he did. And this is when he started to scare her a little. 

“I’m just running these to Christine,” she lied smoothly to her mother, who was mindlessly cutting her vegetables as she listened. “I’ll text you if anything changes.”

Her father was more lenient than her mother. Sometimes she thinks that he wasn’t so religion crazy until he met her mother. He says otherwise, preaches that that was how he was raised. She doubted it. But no matter what she couldn’t say she hated her parents, quite the opposite actually, but there were times where she highly disliked them; when they made her go to church for something she cared little for or didn’t even think believed in herself, and the constant, searching eyes of her (she also hated to admit this at times) beautiful mom. When she met Michael, she was curious as to who his real parents were and what they were like. She’d ask, but there was always malice in his tone when they were mentioned; the venom in it would slap Y/N every time she heard it. 

“Okay honey,” her mom said. “Tell Christine I said hi!”

“I will!” Y/N called out as she walked out the door. 

Christine was one of the few people Y/N actually liked from her school. She was a shy, quite girl with beautiful (at least Y/N thought so) brunette locks and chocolate colored eyes. Some kids didn’t understand why someone like Y/N would ever hang out with someone like Christine; the dorky, shy girl who had no business being at the parties Y/N would drag her to. But Y/N did not care. She felt as though Christine was the only person on Earth she could be herself with; all her secrets and fears were locked away with the pure heart of dear Christine. That is until Michael Langdon.

Confidence, yet fear of the unknown bounced away with every step Y/N took to her neighbors’ door. She could sense this uneasy surge coursing through her as soon as she stepped foot on the property, uncomfortable but not entirely. Something different and dark calling to her, and she strangely loved it. With her heart drumming in her chest she knocked politely on the door, waiting patiently for what she assumed would be Miss Mead. It was Michael instead. 

“Hello,” Michael said. 

It almost felt as if he heard her, felt the call in his veins just as she had. Hearing just one pure, normal everyday word coming from his lovely, melodic voice made Y/N weak in her knees. There was a part of her, the alert, behaved subconscious of hers telling her to run. To be done with the boy and never look back. But the stronger part, the one who invited danger and the unknown of tomorrows, fell in love with him immediately. 

She was never one to be a sap, didn’t believe in ‘love at first sight’ bullshit. Love took time, commitment, understanding, and above all patience. Fairy tales were fairy tales, and, unfortunately, they were stuck in reality. But with Michael Y/N felt as if nothing else existed but them, their love. That feeling alone felt enough to kill her, and never did she ever think it would happen to her. That was also something Y/N loved about him; he always teared down everything she thought she knew and showed her greatness. 

“Hi,” Y/N breathed, sounding as though she ran miles to get to his door. “I’m Y/N Y/L/N, the neighbor. I figured I should welcome you to the neighborhood with some cookies.   
They’re chocolate chip, freshly baked too.” She added with a smile.

Michael looked at her wearily, but soon smiled back. “Chocolate chip is my favorite.” He told her. 

Y/N could’ve sighed in relief and thanked God right then and there. Over chocolate chip cookies. 

“Great!” She exclaimed. “Well I could just give you these for you and Miss Mead to enjoy. You can keep the plate too, it’s honestly not a problem.”

Y/N honestly didn’t want to leave. Because if she did that meant she had to leave that beautiful scent Michael carried on him, miss his beautiful blue eyes that she’d kill for, that seemingly sweet, innocent smile. It would mean going back to her everyday normal life, where now she didn’t see much of a future for herself. His aura was dark but full of promises and deep desires that would draw anyone and anything in. It was sweet, sweet poison and she couldn’t get enough of it. 

“You can come in,” Michael said before Y/N could turn around to walk back. “Miss Mead isn’t back from the store yet but I’m sure she won’t mind.”

Y/N could feel the heat of a blush rushing to her cheeks. For what reason she didn’t know. Maybe it was because Michael was the one who invited her in. Or maybe it was the fact that Miss Mead wasn’t home, and this would be the first time she’d ever see the inside of a Satanists home. Either way she couldn’t help the eager nodding of her head before Michael stepped to the side to let her in. 

Miriam’s house was surprisingly homey for having so many Satanic articles around the house. The house was obviously kept nice and cleaned, no blood on the kitchen table from sacrifices, no crosses burning in any corner of the house. She expected something far worse and darker in comparison. She watched as Michael set the plate of cookies down on the kitchen counter, awkwardly twiddling his hands together as he thought of something to say; Y/N was selfishly happy that he was just as nervous as she was. 

“So,” Michael started, clearly trying to seem confident, and Y/N found it hard to believe that such a gorgeous being had no such experience at all. “Wanna see my room? We can play a few games if you want, I got a PlayStation.”

Y/N found herself smiling and nodding before she could even process what she was agreeing to. 

‘Keep it together Y/N’ she mentally scolded. 

Michael didn’t talk much about his family that afternoon as they played video games. Y/N couldn’t help but notice how childish Michael seemed to act. Not in a bad way, but in a way as though he really was a child. It confused her, even made her a little uncomfortable at first but she learned to understand it. She was telling Michael all about herself and family (she noticed that he nodded as if he already knew everything about her, his eyes conveying an aged and senescent look that pushed and pulled at Y/N’s entire being) when Miss Mead came home. The first thing she noticed is how Michael looked a little scared, like he had just committed a crime. 

“I’ll be back,” Michael told her, standing up and rushing out his bedroom before Y/N could utter a response. 

She folded her hands in her lap, looking around his room some more. It was simple for a teenage boy, some posters on the wall, a nice bed set, tv, clothes scattered in various parts of the room. She could hear them talking downstairs, picking up scattered words from their muffled conversation. A few minutes later Michael came back up, leaning against his doorway with a small, eager smile. 

“Miss Mead brought home some takeout, wanna join us?”

Her heart stuttered at this. She was already having dinner with his family! Well adoptive (?) mother, but still. There were so many ways one could take it as, but she would never admit at the time that she wasn’t ready to leave him yet. She was willing to walk through fire if it meant spending another moment with Michael, and it scared her to death at how fast these feelings were catching on; like he was a magnet and she was ensnared in his trap. 

“Thank you for the cookies Y/N,” Miriam said as they ate at the dinner table. “You certainly are the baker!”

“Thank you, Miss Mead,” Y/N said politely. 

“Miriam, please,” she corrected, then straightened up a little in her seat. 

“Do your parents know you’re over here?”

Y/N frowned, hoping that this conversation wouldn’t come up. “Not exactly,” she figured it was best not to lie to her, and hell she wasn’t afraid to admit that she was still a little scared of the woman. “But I’ll be alright. I just wanted to say hi, see if he needed help with school and everything.”

That also wasn’t entirely a lie, she had had school on her plans for discussing, a way to cave her way deeper into the boy only for him to turn the tables around on her. 

“Huh,” Miss Mead huffed. “Well that was very kind of you Y/N. But Michael doesn’t need your help honey.”

Y/N was taken back, not quite expecting her brutal honesty. Michael looked at Miriam, horrified and embarrassed. Before Y/N could argue or agree, she wasn’t sure what, Michael said,

“Well I like her company and I want her to stay.”

There was a moment where Y/N looked at him and swore she saw the promise of a threat in his eyes as he stared at Miriam; fire burning behind the promise, endless torture and pain. This should’ve scared her, like run out of the fucking house and never, ever look back or even utter his name scared. Instead, her heart melted a little at the weight of his words and the fact that Miriam caved so easily. She went back home with more uncertainty than she ever felt before, but it also felt misplaced; like it wasn’t completely brought on by Michael. Rather, it was an immense pressure coursing through her body, and it felt as though it was seeping into her brain as well. She managed to somehow bypass her parents with a simple greeting and informing that she was heading to bed and passed out as soon as her head hit the pillows. 

The dream Y/N was experiencing was one most would heavily consider to be a nightmare. And one that was visibly too real. There were barrens and she was still in her tank top and shorts she slipped in before falling asleep. She was standing in what she realized used to be Earth. Well, it was still on Earth, but everything alive was dead, nothing but dust and ash in the poisoned, polluted air. It did bother her, seeing all gray, no colors of life. It filled her with dread, and she did think about her parents and Christine. 

“Y/N.”

She spun towards the sound, seeing, in the distance, a figure in a dark cloak. Somehow, she got the feeling that this figure was safe; to her at least. She found herself walking towards him, only realizing she was doing so when she stood a few feet in front of him. Under the hood of his cloak was a pale face, smiling down at her and holding his hand out. It was not the face of the boy she had just met, but rather an ancient evil; she knew that he had caused this. Still, she placed her palm in his. Waking up abruptly from the dream with a gasp, she faintly smelled the smoke before seeing it. There, in the corner of her room near the window where she would watch Michael from, was a fire. A fucking huge fire. Immediately jumping out of her bed and to her parents’ room made her dizzy from the smoke, but she damn near almost fainted from the screams that tore from her.

Miriam was talking with the police as Michael sat with Y/N in the ambulance. Her house was still burning down, her parents burnt to a crisp into their beds, the firefighters working hard to control it. She sat with a blanket around her shoulders as she was being checked out, dazed and in shock. She thought Michael was trying to talk to her, to soother her out of her shock, but the words came in jumbled messes, sounding as though she was underwater. She knew that she had somehow caused it. But what made her feel really guilty, that made her realize just how deep into hell she was already in, was that she felt so much better. The pressure was gone, as though it disappeared into the fire, and she felt oddly happy and free.

Michael had told Miriam that she was to stay with them until otherwise. Y/N didn’t have a problem with it, brought her closer to him. Miriam only tolerated it because of Michael. 

Christine would try to visit, her phone always blowing up from her constant calls and texts, but Y/N didn’t want them anymore; she didn’t want to bring Christine down with her.   
Michael and Y/N’s relationship continued to change every day. The first few weeks were a daze, and she noticed things moving without her touching them, the pressure coming back every now and then. She would beg Michael to help her with this, afraid of repeating the same fate she left her parents in. Their faces haunted her in her dreams until Michael made them better. It was soon after that he told her everything about who he was. It surprisingly didn’t shock her as much as it should have. Miriam grew to like her and almost worship her as much as she did Michael when they all came to the conclusion that she had magic (almost) like Michael. Y/N and Michael would work on them together, her becoming more powerful with her newfound abilities. It felt amazing, letting it all out, and she wished she knew about them before accidentally killing her parents. Michael convinced her it was for the best. And he could be quite convincing; it only took a week into their new training before Y/N made the first move, kissing Michael with some much passion that she thought was going to cause another fire. She could tell he was inexperienced and very scared and nervous about her reaction to this revelation; it only made her more careful with him until he no longer needed her guidance. 

The day Cordelia Foxx showed up at her door was also the day Michael was arrested for killing the butcher at the grocery store and was taken in by the Warlocks. Cordelia explained to her who exactly she was and that she was indeed a witch, and an already powerful one. She took her in, New Orleans being a place Y/N never expected to visit, and made quick friends; somehow, she knew not to worry, Michael was okay and she’d see him again. 

Y/N passed through with flying colors, discovering so much more about herself and witches and magic. She was happy there, could see herself standing among the witches. She was closest to Mallory most of all, whom she sensed such a deep connection to that she couldn’t explain. But there was always that pull; there was always Michael. Every night away from him she could feel him, could practically taste him with every breath she took. Her dreams -she wasn’t sure what to call them anymore- were filled with soft caresses and words spoken of their adventures away from each other. 

“Witches and Warlocks, huh?” Y/N joked the first night. “Who would’ve thought they were actually a thing.”

They were sitting in his room, or at least a version of it they created, on his bed, Michael propped up on one elbow as he looked up at her. She could sense the major changes in him as he could with her, but she knew his was darker and more terrifying; she still couldn’t find herself to break from his spell.  
Michael couldn’t but chuckle with her, trailing a finger over her knee, sending shivers down her spine. 

“They’re saying I could be the next Supreme,” Michael said. “The first Warlock one at that.”

Y/N knew what this meant, and it did bother her a little at first. Cordelia was a good person and her mentor, and she was also very kind to her. Sometimes she reminded her of her mother with the way she would dot over her, give her womanly wisdoms; it came with a comforting feeling. 

Michael and Y/N had decided to hide their relationship from the Warlocks and Witches when Y/N learned they were to come to the Warlocks themselves to prove if Michael was worthy to take his rightful place. They would steal looks here and there under careful supervision, a brush of fingers as they walked by each other in the hallways. It seemed as though their plan was working, as no one questioned them at all. It also gave a little thrill to their trice’s, when Michael would sneak to her room to fuck her silly (thankfully her roommate was a very heavy sleeper), or when he would lick her pussy like his life depended on it in the library. She never felt guilty afterwards and wondered if Michael’s influence was finally in her system; no traces of the old Y/N Y/L/N left, but rather something more beautiful and powerful than before.

“She’s scared,” Michael said the night before his trial. They were lying in her bed, her roommate gone for reasons Y/N didn’t care about; she was just happy she wasn’t there. “She knows I’m going to pass.”

Y/N hummed as she ran her fingers through his luscious locks, his head resting over her heart. 

“She is,” she agreed. “Cordelia isn’t stupid though, Michael. You should be careful.”

Michael lifted his head up to get a good look at her, a twinkle in his eyes. “Sure, sure,” he said. “But I’m worried about your apparent lack of faith in me Y/N/N.”

Most people would scurry away from the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice, so full of authority. But Y/N was destined to be with Michael no matter what, and he would never hurt her intentionally. He did, however, depend on her love and loyalty to him, fed off it; she couldn’t blame him given his track record. 

“I have plenty of faith in you, baby,” she cooed. “It’s just, I worry sometimes.”

He smiled, that soft, adorable smile that was reserved for her and her eyes only. He placed a chaste but oh so sweet kiss to her lips, Y/N whimpering when he pulled away too soon. He cupped her cheek, now laying on top of her. 

“Nothing, and I do mean nothing, will ever take me away from you.” The conviction in his promise made her heart stop, blood rush to her cheeks, her breaths shallow. All that and his hand traveling down the curves of her body, lifting her left leg so he could put his weight between her legs; she could feel his want for her already, a pool of arousal between her legs because of it. 

They quickly shed their clothes, stealing sloppy, needy kisses in between. Michael knew her body well now, could play her like a fine instrument and she would let out all the beautiful notes he thrived off of.

“We,” he breathed out, placing the head of his large cock at her entrance, teasing her clit as he did so. Y/N moaned, rolling his hips to get him inside before he pinned her hip down. 

“Are meant for each other.” He finished this sentence with a hard thrust, making Y/N cry out. He didn’t give her any time to adjust, starting a brutal yet somehow soft, loving pace   
as she babbled, already so close to internal euphoria. 

“We were destined for such great things together,” he boasted, one arm on the headboard as it was beginning to bang against the wall, the other touching her everywhere. She never wanted him to stop talking, each time his lovely voice bringing her close to release. 

“This world will be ours. By our delights and creations, we are the beings of God and the Devil. They can do nothing to stop us. They can do nothing to separate us. We will create a new world in our making, a better one, atop the ashes of the spoiled.”

God Y/N loved him. She felt every word through every thrust into her wet cunt, through every touch, every breath she took in from him, from their bruising kisses. She knew every word he was saying was completely and utterly true. She felt the power coursing through them, and she truly believed that it was enough to burn the whole entire fucking world down as they were fucking. 

“I love you!” Y/N practically screamed, clutching to him as he rubbed her clit with a rough thumb. 

“I love you,” Michael breathed, nearing his release as well and pounding into her harder and faster. 

She couldn’t hold it back any longer, letting out pornographic moans into his chest as her pussy tightened around his thick length. He growled as he felt her velvet walls clutch him, releasing deep inside her a few thrusts later. He collapsed on top of her, her arms wrapped around him as he did. She thought over what he said as they caught their breaths. She couldn’t find any fear in her at them.

Michael lifted his head up and placed a loving kiss to her lips, nipping at her bottom lip before pulling back. 

“You are mine.”

Y/N nodded, grinning from ear to ear. “And you are mine.”


	2. Langdon's Got a Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conclusion between Michael, Y/N, and the Witches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took so long and I apologize.

“How long?”

Cordelia and the other witches, namely Zoe, Madison, Mallory, and Queenie, stood in front of Y/N. 

They were at the Warlock’s coven now, and Michael had proven himself worthy of a supreme after passing the Seven Trials and even bringing back Misty Day from Hell. Y/N was proud of him and could feel how exhausted he was after the ordeal. 

It took Mallory, whom Y/N couldn’t deny had a connection with, to figure out the relationship between Y/N and Michael. 

“A while,” Y/N simply answered. They didn’t need to know more than what they already knew. 

Cordelia took in a breath, eyes glittering with betrayal. 

“And you didn’t think to tell me. Why?”

Maybe more of Michael was rubbing off on her. Maybe she was becoming more confident in who she was destined to be. Or maybe she just wanted to have a little bit of fun at their expense. 

Either way her response, a short “You didn’t ask” followed by a smirk, resulted in a harsh slap that echoed the room. 

“You are not a part of this coven,” Cordelia growled. “Not anymore. You have betrayed us all, and I will smile at the day he leaves you high and dry.”

Y/N squared her shoulders confidently. “We’ll see.”

The witches, other than Mallory, all exited the room with a shake of their heads. Mallory walked towards her, taking her hands into hers and squeezing. 

“Y/N,” she started. 

“Save it, Mallory,” Y/N sighed. “I don’t care what any of you think or say. I’m staying with him.”

Mallory gulped. “He’s evil Y/N. He’s going to kill Cordelia. And possibly the rest of us too. Don’t you care about her at all? Or any of us for that matter?”

It would be a lie if she said she didn’t. Though the same darkness that coursed through Michael Langdon was now seeping into her soul, Y/N was still Y/N Y/L/N, and that part of her loved Mallory and the others. 

But her love and devotion to Michael was stronger. It was too late to back out now, and she found that she didn’t want to. What she felt when she was with him, caught in his embrace, entwined in his love, it was otherworldly. There were no words that could perfectly describe their love for each other, and no one else could possibly understand it. 

“I do,” Y/N finally admitted. “But my love for Michael is stronger. If you just leave him alone-.”

“Leave him alone?” Mallory scoffed. She looked like she was about to argue some more, but then stopped herself. 

“I guess there’s nothing I can do to change your mind.”

Y/N nodded. Mallory clenched her jaw and looked away, tears glittering in her eyes. She said nothing else as she walked towards the doors but did take one last look back at Y/N as she sat down in one of the chairs, eyes glazed over in thought. Her expression was unreadable, and Mallory sensed that she was having an internal argument with herself. Maybe there was hope for her.   
…

“I have to get you out of here,” Michael panted, throwing piles of clothes in one of her suitcases. 

Y/N watched as he moved swiftly. Michael had walked into her room in franticly after finding out that Cordelia knew about them. It was only a matter of time before they turned on her and used her against him. Michael was not going to let them touch her.

“Where? Are you coming with me? We can handle it, right?” The questions were flying out of her mouth, and Michael angrily turned towards her, zipping up her case with forceful tugs. 

“The only thing you need to worry about is staying alive,” he hissed viciously at her. 

Y/N knew that it was all the pent-up frustration and the fear of her death that was making Michael hostile. It still hurt her though. 

Michael must have sensed this because his expression softened, still visibly tense, and cupped her face. The kiss was soft, and it left Y/N breathless when he pulled away. 

“I’m sorry,” he breathed against her lips. “But your safety is the most important thing to me right now. They will stop at nothing to bring me down, and you are definitely one of them. If anything happened to you…”

He trailed off, as if just thinking about it was enough to kill him. Y/N grabbed his wrists, bumping her nose against his. 

“I know,” Y/N whispered. “I just want you to be okay too, Michael.”

Michael nodded. He licked his lips, backing away from her and grabbing another bag for her to pack with. 

“We have to hurry,” Michael reminded her. “We’ll figure everything else out later.”

Y/N nodded. Helping him pack the rest of her stuff. He transfigured them to her old neighborhood, and Y/N furrowed her brows in confusion. 

“Why-.”

“That friend of yours, Christine,” Michael interrupted. “I put a cloak on her and her house. It’s temporary, but it’ll do for now. You’ll be staying there until I come back for you.”

She bit her lip. She didn’t like this one bit. Plus, what did Michael tell Christine and her family? 

Y/N pressed a hard and dirty kiss to his lips, slightly surprising him. She reveled in the explicit moan she got out of him. She would take him right in the middle of the street in front of everyone and wouldn’t bat an eye. 

Michael took her bottom lip between his teeth as he started to pull away, biting down hard enough to draw blood, making her whine. He ran his tongue over the cut, licking up the little droplets of blood. Y/N was breathing heavily when he back away with a smirk. 

“I love you. Please be careful.” 

Michael couldn’t help but get one more kiss in before whispering his love for her. 

When Michael disappeared Y/N grabbed her bag and suitcase, eyes trailing over her once familiar home and met the neighbor across the street – who no doubt had watched Michael and Y/N’s make-out session – who met her eyes back with a look of disgust. 

Y/N stuck her tongue out and smirked at her before walking up the steps of her temporary home. 

Turns out Michael was very persuasive with Christine and her family. Their glazed eyes and dazed looks only answered her thoughts from early on that day. It was weird. Y/N adored Christine, she was the only friend she had left, and she wasn’t even Christine anymore. 

“It really is lovely,” Christine blabbered to her in the middle of the night. “The time of change is coming. And your boyfriend is our savior!”

Her tone held light teasing but pure adoration. Sweet Christine, devoted to all things light and Godly, selling her soul to the devil himself. And it was her fault.

She only let a few tears escape her that night.  
…

The witches burned Miriam Mead at the stake. They tried looking for Y/N, but not even a clairvoyant could find her. Michael didn’t realize they were on Miss Mead’s trail as well, which only fueled his guilt and his anger. And what was worse, he couldn’t even get her soul back.

Followed by his grief, Michael wanted desperately to get Y/N and hold her until the pain went away. Stumbling in the woods, he thought for sure he heard her voice calling out to him. 

“Michael.”

His love was standing in the middle of a small open field. Dressed in white, hair braided with small little white flowers, she was the epiphany of beauty itself. 

There were moments where Michael felt incredibly guilty for slowly stripping Y/N of her old self, the good side that constantly tried to hold on. He knew that Y/N had her own darkness, but he was the main reason behind her magic growing darker and more powerful, the reason why she had to abandon the witches she had grown fond of. A part of him hated himself for spoiling her to the point of rotten. She deserved better; a chance at life and an afterlife, whatever it may be. 

But Michael was a selfish man and Y/N was a selfish woman. They would cause nothing but pain and suffering to others if it meant getting their way, their love being untouched and unquestioned. 

He reached out to her, whimpering when she didn’t hold her arms out for him. He sobbed and let out a shriek when he realized it was just a hallucination. 

“God loves you, Michael.”

Maybe, in his own sick and twisted way, God really did love him. The trials of his cruel life were only a simple test, coiled to form the perfect vision of good and evil. But Michael had a destiny, didn’t he? He was born to rule and destroy the very world God created himself, left to persuadable humans to shape in their own image as well. It was his birthright to create the ashes upon the earth and rebuild an honest haven of darkness. 

Michael stuck to these conclusions after the church found him. He told Madelyn, the kind woman who took him in, to take him to Y/N before he was to see the robotics corporation – he caught the small gleam of jealously in her eyes at Y/N’s name. 

It was time to stop pulling punches. But if Michael were to achieve any of this, he needed a queen by his side.   
…

Cordelia gaped at the woman standing before her. Dressed in a black and red laced dress – not too short, just how Langdon liked it – beautifully elegant and dangerous. She was sure she had everything figured out, that they had found a way to finally defeat Michael Langdon. But they were unprepared for Y/N Y/L/N. 

Y/N Y/L/N, the witch Langdon had fought so hard to keep well hidden, and succeeded in. The very same girl they thought to be dead, killed just before the massacre at Robichaux’s. 

Y/N was proud of herself when her and Michael were able to create the perfect cloak and projection. It left her drained all the time and it couldn’t last for long, but all’s they needed was the start of the apocalypse. It was like a breath of fresh air after it happened, and Michael and Y/N celebrated in bloody fashion; it makes her stomach flip and her pussy throb when she thinks about the way Michael held her, crushed her with his weight on top of the Satanic symbol, covered in blood. Some days she can still feel the stickiness of the blood and his cum painted over her body. 

Y/N had changed significantly since. No longer was she the small, insignificant girl who was just a small piece in the game of life. She had changed into something fiercer, more authoritative; feral, lethal, and coldly calculated. 

“Y/N!” Mallory gasped. 

She was so close to completing the spell. So close to defeating Michael once and for all and restoring the once lively earth. Y/N simply smiled at her.

“I do love you Mallory,” her voice was even different, more melodic and sinister in its nature. “But you have left me no choice.”

Mallory struggled for breath as she felt a force tightened around her neck. Gasping and thrashing in the bath, she started to see black dots surrounding her vision as Y/N only stared, hands behind her back. She decided to be merciful, however, and after a few moments of watching Mallory struggled for her life she snapped her neck; she felt Mallory’s life drift away, but still lit the bath aflame along with her body. 

Now Y/N stood next to Michael in front of Cordelia, smiling at her gaping figure. 

“She’s dead, Cordelia,” Y/N said. 

Cordelia shook her head. “No that can –“

“They’re all dead,” Michael finished for her. “Every single one of your precious little witches.”

“Except her.” It came out vicious, but they paid no mind to it. 

“Because I was never one of yours,” Y/N said as she started to walk towards her. “Don’t you see that now? This was always what I was meant to become. You thought you were slick. You thought you could destroy us.”

She was standing in front of her now, almost bumping noses with her. Cordelia could only stare. 

“What happened to you?” Cordelia whispered. 

Y/N could feel the pain with the question. She would’ve wavered before, would’ve considered the question with care. What did happen to her? But instead Y/N grinned, plunging the knife deep into her abdomen. Cordelia gasped, grabbing her hand before falling over the balcony to her death.

Michael strolled up to stand behind Y/N as they both watched from above the life disappear from Cordelia’s eyes. That last thing she saw as her soul faded away was them licking her blood off the knife and their lips, groaning at the taste of it. 

“My little witch,” Michael hummed, hands splaying over the back of her dress to carefully unzip it – Y/N would kill him if he ripped the damn thing. 

Y/N grinned, shrugging off the dress. Michael took a step back to admire her; lips plump and red, her breasts heaved with the growing arousal, nipples perk, and he inhaled deeply at the scent of her desire. 

“My king,” Y/N cooed. “Please.” She whined, thighs rubbing against each other as she tried to soothe the growing ache between her legs. 

Michael tooted. “Please what? Use your words, my queen.”

Y/N slithered up to him, taking off every piece of his clothing slowly, as if this was their first time all over again; fingers trailing over his beautiful smooth skin, covered in the blood of the witches, heart fluttering and her juices now visible on her thighs at each moan and hiss as her nails scraped over his body. 

“I want to fuck you,” Y/N growled. “I want to show everyone whose side I’m fucking on. I want them to see you let me use you. I want them to feel the love I only have for you. To know that there was never any other way other than this.”

Michael grew painfully harder at her words, moaning loudly when she gave a forceful tug of his now long locks. 

“Will you let me?” Y/N cooed as she nibbled on his neck, no doubt leaving trails of spit and bruises all around his neck, marking him as hers. 

Michael could only moan and squirm in her arms, his cock brushing against her stomach every time he did. It doesn’t matter how many times he’s been inside her, tasted her; he could not and would never get enough. 

“Use your words,” she said, using his words back at him. 

“Fuck – yes.”

Y/N took him in her palm then, holding his shuddering form as she grasped up and down his length. She tightened her fist, making his hips stutter into her hand. 

“Lay down,” Y/N whispered. 

Michael complied quickly, bringing her down with him. Y/N straddled his stomach, running her fingers through his hair. 

They didn’t need to communicate with words to know what the other wanted and what they were feeling. Michael smirked and gripped her thighs, pushing her up until her hot, wet cunt pulsed over his face. He didn’t waste any time in attaching his lips to her clit, making her close her eyes with a soft sigh at the feeling of his tongue and teeth scraping against her most sensitive part. His tongue lapped at her slit, tongue pulsing in and out of her leaking hole. He knew her body so well now, knew how to play her like a fine tune. 

One hand left the bruising grip on her thigh to curl two thick fingers into her core. Y/N cried out, struggling to keep her hips still. Michael moaned around her clit, and she couldn’t help but to start moving to the rhythm of his fingers, riding his face. He hummed in approval, sucking her clit. 

It only took a few more thrusts of his fingers and one powerful suck on her clit for her to gush around his fingers and face. Michael licked up every slick of her orgasm, moaning at the taste of her sweet and tangy release. 

Panting, Y/N moved down to hover over his red angry dick, wasting no time in sliding down on him. He let out a chocked groan, hands steadying her on her hips. She let out a groan at the taste of herself on his lips, starting a rough and fast pace. 

“Shit,” Y/N hummed as she bounced on his cock. Every stretch of his impressive girth into her cunt left her sore but still always aching for more after. It was like he was made for her, and Michael felt the same way every time his length made itself home into her hungry warmth. 

“You feel so good,” she continued. “I can feel you everywhere Michael.”

Michael grunted at her whine, planting his feet down to meet her thrusts. 

“Yeah?” He placed a palm on her stomach, feeling his cock destroying her guts. “I can feel my cock right here,” he breathed. “You like having me there? Pretty soon our baby will be growing there. You’re going to look so perfect, round with my child.”

This was the first time they had ever discussed having kids together. Y/N never saw herself as a parent, but with Michael? She would carry a thousand of his babies if that’s what he wanted. 

“Yes,” Y/N sighed. “Oh Michael, yes.”

They were nothing but a chorus of moans and groans as the audible sound of skin slapping grew louder and more frantic. Y/N wrapped her hand around his throat gently at first, only tightening when he gave a guttural whine of approval.

“Michael,” Y/N whined as she felt her orgasm seeping through her like a tidal wave. “I’m gonna cum!”

“Do it,” Michael ordered through clenched teeth. “I wanna feel you. Gonna fill you up. And then some. Until you’re flourished with my seed.”

Y/N cried out as she came, walls suffocating his length, her wetness gushing out of her. Michael cursed and rutted faster and harder into her until ropes of cum spilled into her, painting her fluttering walls. 

She collapsed on top of him, head resting over his fluttering heart. Looking around at the massacre surrounding them, Y/N couldn’t help but let out a string of giggles, which earned a curious look from Michael underneath her. 

Thinking back, Y/N never thought this was how her life would turn out. Sometimes it was strange to think about, how Michael came into her life. She had destiny to thank for that,   
as did Michael. 

Now, pregnant with her first child, Y/N felt a new sense of hope she hadn’t felt in a long time. And only Michael and their growing family could give her that. 

Michael Langdon looked at her with nothing but unwavering love and devotion, feeling the kick of their child against his palm.


End file.
